by Robert Thistle

Created on: September 18, 2008

FRAGILISTIC

She lives under the boughs

of snow sprinkled spruce.

Inside the fragrance

of lilacs in summer.

Sheltered neath the wings

of family and friends.

Above the cares

of a burdened world.

One elven morning

when crystal dew carpets the grass

Fragilistic woke up early and quietly dressed.

Putting on a velvet cloak of summers breeze.

She gathered up a pocketful of sunbeams,

left over from yesterday,

and went outside to greet the world.

Down the sleepy street she guided her wheelchair,

past the first four humble houses,

then turned down a murmuring path.

"Good morning Mr. Taddlewink,"

she cheerfully called out. "Where are you?"

"Sitting on a lonely clover," came the reply.

Looking around Fragilistic spied the clover and her

friend. Politely he jumped into her hand.

Mr. Taddlewink, a grasshopper, was an older gentleman,

who was always dressed in a fine suit of emerald green.

"Isn't is a lovely elven morning".

Fragilistic continued her conversation.

"The Burtle bees are buzzing amongst the cinnamon clover

in a most graceful ballet."

"Sorry I have not noticed," came a sad reply.

"Someone cut down my choice fuchsia thistle that I loved

to stand on and sing praise to my Creator. Now it is gone."

Mr. Taddlewink softly moaned a mournful moan.

"People only think of themselves, never others. So sad.

Fragilistic had been quiet while Mr. Taddlewink talked,

she was a good listener.

They both paused a moment in threaded thought.

Then suddenly she smiled a smattering smile,

that even made Mr. Taddlewink smile.

I know where there is a farbled field of thistles.

When Mr. Taddlewinks' ears swallowed Fragilistics' words,

he was so excited, he burbled for over an hour.

Finally he calmed down and off they went in a jelly mood,

in the direction of the farbled field thick with thistles.

Fragilistic and Mr. Taddlewink had only wiggled fourteen

steps when of a sudden they spurched to a stop.

A perplexed purple pelican was scrambling their path.

Bowing most gracefully Mr. Taddlewink politely asked the

perplexed purple pelican to move, so he and Fragilistic

could continue their exciting adventure.

Pofish, (for that was his name), opened his mouth to speak,

but instead of words out came the most boforous sounds

an agitated belly can make.

It roared, rumbled and rokished for almost an hour,

or so it seemed. Actually it was only two minutes.

Pofish had burped.

"What did I tell you about drinking too much pop"

Fragilistic scolded him.

Pofish said he was sorry

and promised to try and not do it again.

"Where are

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